


For Forever

by JesusCheese



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Ableism, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Autism, Autism Spectrum, Bullying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Lee Taeyong-centric, Light Angst, One Shot, Suh Youngho | Johnny is a Good Friend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:40:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27622853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JesusCheese/pseuds/JesusCheese
Summary: “No thinking,” Johnny protested, grabbing his hands and pulling him up. “No thinking this late at night. It’s bedtime. Let’s go.”"You have a procrastination problem."“And you’re just now figuring this out? It’s going to be long ‘forever’, Lee Taeyong. Buckle up.”...Johnny Suh was Taeyong’s favorite person.If these boys were Taeyong’s forever, Johnny was Taeyong’s forever and more.
Relationships: Lee Taeyong/Suh Youngho | Johnny
Comments: 12
Kudos: 105





	For Forever

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoy :)

When he was five years old, Lee Taeyong realized that he wasn’t like other people.

No, other people didn’t know the best way to eat food (separate, and one at a time. Always finishing one before going to the next). Other people didn’t speak in full, educated sentences at his wee age, and he pitied them, really. It must’ve been hard for them to be so ignorant. Most of all, though, he pitied his teacher, who gave him a punishment for telling his classmates just that.

All he did was tell the truth. His classmates were Oblivious, Ignorant, Naive...they didn’t notice when the lights buzzed or when the sound of tapping or breathing got much too loud. They didn’t notice that a classroom full of people was a classroom that was too full. He knew how to stop it. He knew to slap his hands over his ears and scream, but they didn’t. Of course he was different.

Taeyong was not like other people because he was very organized. He planned out his days, his meals, his toys, and prioritized everything. Above all came music. Every day, he would play with his small keyboard enough to kill the batteries after only a few days.

After a doctor’s visit one day that left his father in tears, his mom got him a real keyboard that plugged into the wall and everything. It had One Hundred different sounds, but Taeyong only liked two. Piano and Synth number 3.

“Mom, I’m going to make music for my entire life, you know,” he informed her, playing the notes until they sounded just right. “And I’ll buy you something nice too. It will show my Appreciation.” He’d just learned that word.

“Saying ‘thank you’ will do just fine, baby,” she chuckled, running a hand through his hair. Taeyong shivered and pulled away. He hated light touches to his head, and he was going to tell her that, too.

“Either touch my skin hard or don’t touch me.” He’d forgotten something. Something that his Distasteful teacher always reminded him of. “Please.” He liked hard touches. Lung-crushing hugs made him feel alive, and he could only sleep with heavy blankets pushing his body into his mattress. But light touches hurt and made him want to remove his skin entirely. It was just How It Worked.

“Sorry sugar. I’ll keep that in mind. You’ve got an hour and a half to play until dinner’s ready, piano man. Then you’ve got to finish your homework.”

Taeyong always finished his homework quickly outside of class. In class, he had a bitch of a woman (he’d learned that word from his dad talking about his coworker Chaeryong) who would always tap his paper impatiently when he looked away to think and suck air through her teeth when he would hum to feel the buzz in his skull.

When he was grown and living with Passion, he would not let anybody stop him from doing what he wanted. 

Lee Taeyong had no time for ‘bitches’.

…

The worst part about going to school with the same people from diapers to diplomas was that reputations, ideas, and nicknames always stuck. It didn’t matter to them that Taeyong had grown into a very impressive student and musician. It didn’t matter to them that he almost never acted out of the normal. His hand-flapping, humming, rocking, patting, and meltdowns were always Postponed until he was in a private space or with good company.

Good company was few and far between.

Instead, he got the name-calling company, the shoving company, the milk-down-the-shirt company. Then, once he’d finally had enough and punched one of his classmates in his left cheekbone, he’d been expelled. He was surprised that he’d lasted all the way until highschool without doing it. After he was out of school, he only wished that he’d done it sooner.

“What do you want to do now, Taeyong?” his mother asked as he rocked with the ice on his purple knuckles. He hated the way the freezing water ran along his skin and nipped at his nerves, but he didn’t regret the assault. He would never regret the assault.

“I’m going to make music, just like I always wanted to.”

“Music cannot replace your education, son,” his father spoke up, laying a calloused hand on Taeyong’s shoulder and sighing when he shook it off. “What’s your plan? Wanting to make music is not a plan if you’re not getting your education or making money; you know this. I’ll support you but not if you’ll end up a beggar in the subway.”

He fished the card out of his pocket and handed it over to his father, staring at his chin. Never eyes. Taeyong hated eyes. They made him Writhe. “I’m handsome, I can compose music, and I can rap. Any company would be Naive to turn me away.”

“But Taeyong, you’re...I’m not sure that you’re ready to be in that atmosphere with those people,” his mother fretted, hands wringing. Maybe that’s where Taeyong got that particular nervous stim from. 

“Any atmosphere is preferable to the current one, Mother,” he stated matter-of-factly. “If I don’t get accepted, I will look for a different high school to attend. This is my plan, and I will be following it through.”

“But-”

“No,” his father cut off his wife, a hand on her shoulder. “Our son has a plan to provide for himself, and he needs to deal with the consequences of his actions, however warranted they may have been. Taeyong,” he addressed the young man. “I want you to see where this plan gets you. I’ll support you, but you need to take the first step on your own.”

“Parents aren’t allowed in the audition room anyways.” He stood, taking the card from his dad’s fingers and setting his alarm for the following morning. He laid out his clothes, got under the heavy covers, and let himself drift off with the route to SM Entertainment running through his head. He’d always been great at Navigation.

…

According to their manager Heesung, Taeyong was “one of the first trainees to show real promise” and that it was “such a shame that he was so slow”. If life had taught him anything over the years, it would be that in some situations, it’s best to hold your tongue, and not in the literal sense. You could get sick, and you’d have slimy fingers if you actually grasped it.

Taeyong knew what others thought of him- stupid, slow, retarded, weird. Nobody ever tried to get to know him well enough to hear him talk about Topics that he enjoyed, and nobody knew that he’d once memorized the entire Korean dictionary. Stupid people could not do that. He could’ve said, “one of the effects of my autism is affected social skills and situational awareness”, but he didn’t think that manager Heesung was worth the effort. Manager Heesung was ignorant, and Taeyong was sure that even if he informed him, Heesung would still be stupid. Stupidity is a far worse sin than ignorance, in Taeyong’s book. Heesung was stupid.

Heesung was a ‘bitch’, but Taeyong was not yet living as a musician, so he had to put up with him until he was living with Passion and making money and changing lives.

Thankfully, Taeyong was one of the first members of SM’s newest project that he couldn’t know about, even though he was a part of it. In a way, it felt like a bit of a surprise party, but Taeyong wished that somebody would tell him what he was dancing, singing, and rapping so hard for. He was tired all the time and stimming more than ever when he just needed a Moment to regroup that was not Allowed. 

As the other boys came, it got easier and easier to manage the workload. Knowing that they were bearing that weight on their shoulders helped him hold his own in the face of Adversity.

“I really appreciate you all,” he said one day as they were stretching. “I don’t know how many of us will succeed and debut under SM’s project, but I hope that we can gain strength and get there together. It makes the days easier if we have each other.” 

There was an awkward pause that had Taeyong’s skin crawling and mind buzzing but it seemed as though his short message was enough to break an invisible dam of feelings. A few of them very nearly cried and reached out to hug him, but he held out a hand for them to shake instead. Emotional hugs made him very Uncomfortable. Apparently, it had been a very rough few weeks for many of them.

Taeyong told them, “Sometimes, you have to deal with things that you don’t enjoy if you want a good future, so suck it up.” 

There was yet another moment of stunned silence before they chuckled and got back to work, casting him kind glances in the mirror that had him looking away basfully. He did not like Eye Contact, even though the mirror. 

These boys were not ‘bitches’.

…

When Taeyong was nervous, he learned to sit on his hands instead of wringing them and rocking where he sat. His father had taught him that lesson. “Son,” he said. “You may be different from everybody else, but I’ll be damned if I don’t teach you to never let anybody walk all over you.” He still couldn’t meet their eyes, though. That was his one flaw. Eyes made him Writhe. Eyes made him Hurt. The material of his shirt made him hurt. The buzzing of the lights in the office made him hurt.

“Taeyong, you’re not in trouble.” That was Lee Sooman, the head of everything, the boss of all bosses. “We called you in here to share some good news.”

“What is the good news?”

Manager Bitch Heesung scoffed at his blunt nature, as if he hadn’t spent years with him, as if he wasn’t used to his antics and mannerisms. Taeyong was not a professional singer, and he wasn’t debuting, so he couldn’t say a thing to him. Not yet.

“We’re going to debut you and the rest of the boys. Very soon.” His heart leapt. It wasn’t certain. It wasn’t concrete. Not yet. “The reason that you’re the first to know is that...well, we’d like you to be the leader.”

The world halted, and his lungs deflated. But not in the literal sense. He would be dead if it were a literal deflation. “You’re sure that you meant to appoint me?”

Lee Sooman chuckled. “Positive. I’ve seen the way you encourage the others, the way you lead them in lessons- both dancing and performance wise. They come to you for comfort. You are and have always been their leader, whether or not you had that title in the first place.”

“With all due respect, I don’t believe that I’m the best candidate to represent the team with my autism, sir. During interviews, I might...I don’t...I can’t-” Taeyong /hated/ not having the right words to say. It made him feel stuffed up, stupid, and slow, all of the things that he knew he wasn’t. He had an Extensive vocabulary and no way to Utilize it. He was going to have a meltdown. He was going to be kicked out. He didn’t want any of this.

“Being the leader doesn’t mean being perfect, Taeyong. Being the leader means pushing through and inspiring your team, helping them get to where they need to go. Other members can talk during interviews. Haechan’s a natural moodmaker, and the rest of them are well on their way, given the proper time and training...If you formally reject the position, we can give it to somebody else, but there’s nobody I see filling the shoes better than you.”

Filling the Shoes. Not literal shoes. He filled the Position. Did he? “I- I yes, I will. I’ll lead.” He wanted out. He wanted to process this Development.

“Sign here to be a part of the group,” Sooman said, sliding over a form and a pen. He scribbled a lousy ‘TY’ into the blank and ran out of the room, chest heaving. 

“I’m the leader.”

He turned around and pulled the door open, startling Heesung and Sooman from where they were conversing over a stack of papers. “With the utmost respect to your authority and experience, Heesung-ssi, you’re ableist and not as eloquent as you’d like to think. I work with you because I need to, but your presence makes me want to slam my head in a door.” 

He left with Sooman’s booming laugh echoing in his ears.

…

“You should come home, Taeyong. It’s dark.”

“If the sun told me when to go home, I’d never get anything done, hyung.” He chuckled despite his exhaustion. The sun could not talk.

“Well it’s much past sundown. Can’t you see the time? Nearly three in the morning. You’re running on fumes.”

“You’re running on fumes,” Taeyong corrected. That was one that Johnny had taught him- an American metaphor for being so tired that you’ve burned through all of your energy fuel and were working off the leftovers...the ‘fumes’. “You’re only assuming my feelings based on your own.”

“Fine,” Johnny huffed, wrapping his arms around Taeyong’s shoulders and leaning on the back of the chair, tipping it almost to the point of falling. Taeyong didn’t fret, didn’t slap him away, didn’t lose his breath. There was something about Johnny’s arms that felt better than anybody else’s. He smelled fresh, felt soft, and sounded velvety. He knew that he wouldn’t be dropped. “But am I right? Are you tired?”

He was going to debut with Johnny Suh, and suddenly, it felt all too overwhelming.

It wasn’t just Johnny. It was all of them. Sure, they’d lived together for their training period, but he’d just delivered the news that they needed to be around eachother for every hour of every day for the foreseeable future. They would be coworkers, roommates, brothers. And Taeyong hadn’t told a single one of them. They didn’t know what he needed when he was having a meltdown or how they needed to speak directly and how if he said something Blunt, it was because he wanted to be clear and Concise, not rude. They didn’t know anything.

“I’m autistic.”

“I asked if you were tired,” Johnny mumbled into Taeyong’s sweater, and it was too hot. Too moist. He pushed away, turning to stare at Johnny’s nose. Not his eyes. Never his eyes.

“I’m serious, hyung. This is something I’ve had to deal with for my whole life, but suddenly, it’s not solely my problem. I don’t want to have it brushed off like it means nothing because it doesn’t mean nothing. There’s so much...baggage that comes with my autism.”

“Taeyong, look at me...in my eyes.”

“I- I can’t-”

“Yes you can. Just one look.”

He forced a small glance before returning his gaze to Johnny’s structured nose. His eyes were a deep chocolate. Soft like a teddy bear and bright like a golden haze. They were the nicest eyes that Taeyong had ever seen, and he found himself wanting to look more. He couldn’t. “I did.”

“Thank you. Now use your own words and advice. Remember telling us that everything was easier to bear as a group? Remember that if we were all facing the situation, we could tackle anything?”

“I wasn’t aware that it applied to my personal problems.”

“Well it’s not just your personal problems. Not anymore. Your autism’s not even a problem for the rest of us. It’s a part of you- our leader- and we’ll love you always, no matter what...you’ve always been autistic, Tae. Telling the boys won’t change who you are or the way you act. It’ll just be...well, telling them.”

“You already knew, didn’t you?”

“I had a feeling.” Taeyong was silent. Thinking. Debating. Mulling over his options in his head. “No thinking,” Johnny protested, grabbing his hands and pulling him up. “No thinking this late at night. It’s bedtime. Let’s go.”

“I have to tell them.”

“Tomorrow. For now, we’re going to go to bed.”

“Fine...But you have a procrastination problem.”

“And you’re just now figuring this out? It’s going to be long ‘forever’, Lee Taeyong. Buckle up.”

Johnny Suh was Lee Taeyong’s favorite person.

…

So he waits a few days to tell the rest of the boys- waits until a week before their first on-stage performance when spirits were high from the success of the release of their debut album and their bellies were full of a dinner that Taeyong pulled apart and smelled before putting in his mouth. 

He’d noticed that a few of the members were limiting their meals, so he took some meat from the serving platter and deposited it onto their plates with a not-so-discreet, “You don’t need to be hungry because your body looks good as it is.” He could’ve gone with ‘eat up’ or ‘you need your strength’, but why would he avoid the real reason that they weren’t eating if he knew it?

Johnny gently shook his head when the dieting boys stuttered out an awkward ‘uhh...thanks, hyung’.

Taeyong sat back, looked at all of them, and smiled. This was nice. He was going to ruin it. “I’m autistic.”

The meal continued and nobody cast him a second glance besides Johnny from across the table, who motioned for him to speak up. “I’m autistic,” he said a little bit louder, frustrated when nobody said anything. He glanced at Johnny, who motioned for a more powerful voice.

“I am autistic,” Taeyong said finally, patting the table with his long fingers and relishing in the small shockwave it sent up his arms. He did a few more times rhythmically, enjoying the wooden ‘thunk’ that met his ears.

“What was that, Tae?” Doyoung asked, scooping more noodles. A few of the other boys looked his way.

“I said that I’m autistic.” Conversations died out and silverware stopped in mid-air. His eyebrows furrowed. “You all seem to be less intuitive than Johnny-hyung.”

“He knows?” Mark asked, turning to Johnny. “Why wouldn’t you tell us?”

“Because Taeyong’s telling you. Focus on him, not me,” he scolded gently.

“I’ve been autistic since I was five years old,” Taeyong continued, rocking with his hands under his thighs. “Well...forever, really, but I was Diagnosed when I was five years old. As long as you have all known me, I have been autistic, so this announcement does not change me or the relationship that any of you have with me.”

“Why tell us now?” Haechan asked. “Did the company make you, or something?”

“I told you because we are going to be together forever and I don’t want to scare you with my stims or meltdowns or frustrate you when I can’t pick the right words. I can only assume that life will be more hectic when we are idols, prompting more issues with my autism, and it’s unfair to leave you all ignorant of my situation.”

There was a bit of stunned silence before Johnny gave a dramatic sniff. “Did you just say we’d be together forever, Yong?” He staggered around the table and behind Taeyong, wrapping his arms around the two boys seated next to him and pulling them into a three person Taeyong sandwich.

Once again, Johnny Suh was Taeyong’s favorite person.

If these boys were Taeyong’s forever, Johnny was Taeyong’s forever and more.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going to be honest, I don't have much experience with autsim, so I apologize if I've made any mistakes. I hope you enjoyed regardless and have a great day y'all. Much love.
> 
> (also, do we want to see more? requests?)


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